Four Hundred Thousand

Four hundred thousand waking hours passed A blink of an eye, it seemed so fast Between when he was born to the month he would die His mind replayed it as his sons gathered by. He said "I raised you well, but there’s no rule To prevent all mistakes, to foolproof a fool. Jim, there was no advice I could share You kept hitting walls where there was nothing but air. And Greg, reality gave you a sharp blow You fell for good looks, a person you didn’t know Blind assumptions took you off reason's track You filled blanks with wishes instead of with facts. You both were naive, that was your curse Didn't realize personality is so diverse The rainforest may have species of very kind. But vastly outnumbered by permutations of the mind. Greg and Jim were dismayed, they sat on the couch They had always seen dad as a lovable grouch But all this negativity seemed surreal At death's door, didn't he care how he made them feel? Dad added, "I look back, no way to make amends My life was a train wreck with doom to my friends I criticize you, but I didn’t know me. I failed life's tests, who I wanted to be. Jim and Greg met each other’s eyes, unsure what to say, The weight of his words would not soon drift away. Then he grasped their hands, and gave them a smile A boost better than words, if for only a while.